Lucien shifted back into his human form to speak with the intruder, his body towering and carved from fury. His voice was low but lethal. “You’ve crossed into my lands. State your purpose or beg for mercy.”
The rogue spat on the ground. “If you didn’t want trespassers, maybe you should invest in better wards. Obviously, there is a lack of power. Your alpha must be weak as fuck.”
A deep, dangerous growl rumbled through our line, carrying on the night air like a promise. Every wolf around me tensed, hackles raised, muscles coiled beneath thick fur. My own lips peeled back over my teeth, a snarl breaking free before I could stop it. The rogue’s scent hit me—arrogance, defiance, the stenchof blood not yet spilled. He reeked of challenge, of some twisted ideology fed to him by whatever fool believed they could take what didn’t belong to them. And we were here to remind him exactly what that would cost.
Lucien stepped forward, every inch the alpha. He stared the intruder down, the air between them crackling with threat. The rogue was still in human form, still smirking like he didn’t feel the weight of death breathing down his neck.
Lucien’s voice cut through the tension, low and lethal, carrying the authority of every battle he’d won, every packmate he’d bled for.“You speak big for a man standing on borrowed time.”
The rogue laughed—a hollow, humorless sound. “Enjoy your throne while you can, Alpha. There are packs closing in who’ll tear it out from under you. All your power, all your rules are meaningless. You and your pets won’t know what hit you.”
That was it. That was all the chance Lucien gave him.
Without hesitation, Lucien shifted. The transition was brutal in its beauty—bones snapping, flesh giving way to fur, hands lengthening into claws. The change was so fast, so seamless, it stole the breath from my lungs. His wolf sprang forward, silver and fury incarnate.
The rogue barely had time to react. He dropped to all fours, his body contorting, the crack and pop of shifting filling the air. His wolf form was leaner, darker, quick—but not quick enough. Lucien was on him before his shift was complete. He hit him like a storm, all muscle and rage, driving the rogue into the ground. The sound of impact—bone, soil, the wet snap of cartilage—echoed through the trees.
They tore into each other, a blur of fur and teeth, claws slashing, jaws snapping. The rogue fought, but he was no match for Lucien’s relentlessness. His jaws found the rogue’s scruff, hisshoulder, his side—each bite a warning, each strike measured. He didn’t kill him, but he left his mark. Blood slicked the ground.
The rogue let out a high, broken yelp. His body went limp beneath Lucien’s weight, his tail tucked, his ears flattened to his skull. “Mercy,” he howled. “Mercy, please?—”
Lucien didn’t let go right away. He held the rogue down, his teeth at the soft place where neck met shoulder, a breath away from ending it. His growl vibrated through the ground, through my chest, through the bones of every wolf standing watch. When he finally released him, the rogue collapsed, trembling, whining, belly to the dirt.
Lucien shifted back into his human form, towering over the crumpled wolf, eyes blazing. He grabbed the scruff of the rogue’s neck, yanked him upright like he weighed nothing, and snarled into his ear.“Go back. Crawl to whoever sent you. Tell them what you found here. Tell them this land is mine. Tell them I protect my pack with tooth, claw, and fire. If they come again, they won’t get mercy. They’ll get death.”
The rogue was struggling, desperate to flee. He bolted across the border, limping, blood marking his trail, disappearing into the night with his tail between his legs. We stayed until his scent was nothing more than memory, until the wind erased the last trace of his cowardice. The forest went still, the stars sharp above, the world holding its breath.
Lucien turned, his face carved in stone, his chest heaving, hands streaked with blood. His gaze swept over us, and no words were needed. The law had been enforced. The line had been drawn. We would not be challenged again. Not without consequence.
We shifted back together, the sound of bone and sinew echoing through the air. I could feel the adrenaline still humming in my veins, my wolf just beneath my skin, ready, waiting. But Lucien’s calm washed over us all, steadying us. Wequietly put our clothes back on, waiting until everyone was ready before we left.
As we started back to the estate, my thoughts spun.
Lucien, with his ridiculous trophy commissions, his enchanted scavenger apps, his obsession with brunch and garlands, wastoo much.Too loud, too dramatic, too sentimental for his own damn good. But this—thiswas the core of him. The reason no one ever dared to truly cross him. The reason we followed without question. The alpha who would rip apart anyone who threatened his own. The protector who would bleed before he let harm come to his pack.
And as we moved through the trees, my mind turned to Maggie. To her laughter, her warmth. I’d protect it with everything I had. Just like Lucien. Just like family.
Because that’s what we were now. And I’d tear down heaven and earth before I let anyone take it from us.
Chapter 21
Maggie
The silence wasthe worst part. It filled the spaces between heartbeats, stretched seconds into hours, and made every creak of the house, every gust of wind outside, sound like the world was holding its breath. I paced the floor in front of the door, arms wrapped tight around myself, staring at that heavy oak as if I could will Roman through it. The walls here were thick and ancient, laced with protective wards that shimmered faintly if you squinted at just the right angle. But all the magic in the world didn’t stop me from imagining the worst.
I’d tried to sit. Tried to distract myself. It lasted maybe five minutes before I was up again and back to wearing a path in the rug. The estate was too quiet now. No laughter from the courtyard, no distant clink of Lucien’s ridiculous goblets. Just the weight of waiting.
When the door finally opened, I could finally breathe again. Roman stepped in first, a little disheveled, dirt on his boots, but whole. His eyes found mine right away, and the tension in my shoulders evaporated instantly. Lucien followed close behind, looking like he’d stepped out of a battle and straight into a photoshoot—blood smeared on his hands, hair smoothed back,his silver cufflinks glinting like the fight had been nothing more than an inconvenient errand.
“Everyone’s safe,” Roman said in that steady, low rumble that always made it easier to keep myself together.
Lucien grinned, all charisma and charm again.
“And now that that unpleasantness is behind us,” he declared, clapping his hands like he was starting a party rather than having just enforced pack law, “we simply must return to the matter at hand. The games! The bonding! The magic of union!” His eyes gleamed with a theatrical sparkle, as if the threat at the border hadn’t happened. “Come, come. Let the hunt continue!”
I barely heard him. Roman crossed the room in a few long strides, and before I could think better of it, I was in his arms. His warmth soaked through me, grounding, real. I gripped the back of his shirt, wanting to anchor myself to him.
“You’re okay?” I asked against his chest, my voice small, my heart still trying to slow down. “You’re not hurt?”
